


Jagged

by CWMaddy



Category: Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But the whole thing isn't just a poem, Do I regret this?, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Original Poems, Pietro and Wanda are connected, Pietro deserved better but I'm not giving it to him, no, twin telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWMaddy/pseuds/CWMaddy
Summary: He's fast, she's weird. He's an earthquake, and she's a storm. Together, they are an unstoppable force of nature.But apart, they are barely anyone at all.





	1. Pietro

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just centered around how Pietro felt as he was dying in AoU. It's in his POV (but still 3rd person) but the second chapter is in Wanda's perspective and how she felt as he died.
> 
> Also, throughout both chapters there is a poem I wrote about Pietro and Wanda. It is completely original, I created them, so please DO NOT take them and use them as your own without permission. Enjoy this dose of angst!

Pietro ached with a sort of pain that he'd never experienced before. But it wasn't from the spew of bullets that he'd saved Clint and the child from. Yes, they hurt, how couldn't they? After all, they were everywhere. 

**Marching soldiers, boys in blue.**

In his arms.

In his legs.

In his chest. 

But that wasn't the pain he was focusing on. It was the pain in the back of his subconscious; the pain that was currently mixed with utter terror, anger, and abandonment. It was his and Wanda's link.

He could feel how their connection was being viscously torn in half, like taut wire finally snapping after being under too much pressure. It left jagged pieces in its wake. 

**Tell me what's become of you.**  

Pietro could hear her screams ringing in his ears even though he wasn't nearby. He always heard her. He was always _with_ her. Wherever she was, he knew. But now it was different. He could feel something, _something_ in the back of his mind where he usually felt Wanda's emotions. 

He could feel something, but it wasn't Wanda. 

It wasn't anything. The only word Pietro could use to describe this pain he was feeling would be 'empty.' There was an empty, phantom-like pain, a tenderness full of nothing, and it was filling the void of what used to be his and Wanda's collective subconscious. 

**What is left when all is lost?**

Pietro's world was slowing down, even more so than it did when he was running, and his eyesight was flickering in and out. And for a brief moment, one last parting second, he and Wanda were one again. He was staring at what was in front of him, but it wasn't of Clint or the boy. 

Everything he saw was bathed in red. 

Blood? 

His blood? 

No. It was much too destructive to be that. He was fascinated by this red force, watching in awe as it took down probably over a dozen robots in no time at all. He knew then, that this must be Wanda's doing. 

She was trying to hold on. She was trying to hold onto _him_. 

But he was fading. 

And it was tearing her apart.

**Your team won, but at what cost?**

Clint's eyes stared back at him, horrified as Pietro wobbled on unsteady legs. 

Pietro couldn't breathe. It was like he'd forgotten how. Was that from being shot, or from being separated from his sister? 

**Tell me who you've left behind.**  

He was tired. And he hurt. He didn't see the point in staying upright any longer. Clint was still staring, and he was silent as ever. 

**And how a hero could be so blind.**

Time was leaving him, and Pietro knew he couldn't keep up. Did he want to? He couldn't remember. His thoughts were failing him, just like every other function in his body.

**Marching soldiers.**  

He needed to say something. He thought about apologizing. 

To the Avengers, for starting this mess. To his parents, for not being there for Wanda.

**Boys in blue.**

And to Wanda, for leaving her behind in this life, alone for the first time. Maybe just, "sorry" would do. But he couldn't seem to form the word. 

**Jagged empty.**

"You didn't see that coming," Pietro spoke instead. 

**Through and through.**  

He dropped to the ground in a heap of useless limbs. 


	2. Wanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda's POV of Pietro's death in AoU

"Come back when everyone else is on the boats. Not before," Wanda meant what she said. She fully intended to be the last one off this floating city, if you could call it that anymore.

She had a job to do, and she was going to finish it. Afterwards, she didn't quite know what would happen. Maybe she and Pietro would move to the country and live happily away from all this superhero chaos. Or maybe, they might stay with the Avengers. 

Maybe they could really be heroes. 

 **Have you heard the witch's call?**  

It didn't matter right now. Plans were for later. Right now, she was only focused on surviving. 

Surviving, and ripping apart any opponents that tried to stop her from protecting the core. Her scarlet snaked out and around, shredding robot after robot from Ultron's army. It was thrilling, being able to use her powers without fear, with nothing else to care about. It was just her and the core. 

She wasn't scared anymore. The thought of being afraid made laughter bubble up in her throat, and she didn't even try to force away the shining smile that made its way onto her face. 

 **One so bold. Standing so tall.**  

They were still coming. Ultron's bots were an endless swarm of sleek machinery made from the finest metal. But in her eyes, they were as powerful as a tin can on the side of the road. 

She could feel Pietro's exhaustion, and even through his sheer determination to prove that he was Good and Just, Wanda knew this battle was taking a toll on him. He was slowing down.

But even this knowledge couldn't prepare her for _that_. 

Because suddenly, all her adrenaline and confidence was overshadowed with an intense feeling of being split in half. Her smile dropped, and that was when the pain rushed in. It washed over her like a wave of molten lava, cooking her mind from inside out and back in again.

Pietro was hurt. He was bleeding. He was scared. And Wanda couldn't get to him.

**Do you know of how she burned?**

Her world was tilting, and the bright, glorious connection she had had with her brother was tearing at the force of it all. But still she grasped for it, grasped for him, for her brother, reaching over these sharp and uneven edges just to hold onto him for a bit longer.   


What had he done? 

Wanda gasped, but no air entered her system. She wasn't sure if that was because of how high up the city was, or if it was because there were bullet holes in her other half's lungs. She didn't care. All she knew was that Pietro had made a _stupididioticselfsacrificingimbecilewhatwashethinking_ choice, and they were both paying the price for it. 

And it hurt. 

Her brother was dying, and she could feel every bit of it.

**A tale of loss.**

The space where Pietro's mind and feelings were supposed to be was beginning to numb over, becoming a hollow pit that meant about as much as a grain of swirling sand at the bottom of the ocean. But she wasn't going to let him go that easily. She rather die with the stabbing pain of their nearly-severed link than live with a blank gap that used to hold her only family. 

Wanda was no longer herself. She was only a desperate soul, a broken shard, clinging to her other piece. Without Pietro tethered to her, and she to him, she was nothing. But he couldn't hold onto her as tightly as she needed him to be. 

Maybe he didn't want to? 

No. He told her he wasn't going to leave her here. He was going to come back for her. And yet, here she was. 

 **A place she earned.**  

Her grip on his mind, his consciousness, his life, was slipping. He was fading from her view. And she wasn't fast like he was, she couldn't catch him as he fell from her. 

Pietro disappeared into the abyss, and the space he'd previously occupied since what she thought was forever went completely numb. She searched her mind like a rabid animal for even a glimmer of his silver light, but there was nothing.  


Wanda screamed. 

She collapsed to her knees, not even feeling the ache of bone connecting with rock as the agony swallowed her whole. The agony of being completely alone for the first time. Through her tears, she did not notice Ultron's army being reverted to dust and ash by the shocking scarlet wave that she unleashed. 

She didn't notice her magic was tinged with ebony or that the columns holding up what was left of the ceiling were caving in as well. All she knew now was the freezing black pit in her subconscious. Was she even a person anymore? 

**A woman's story is of pain and grief,**

She came back to herself as a desensitized shell of who she used to be, and red silk curled around her fingers as she staggered to a train car that was amongst the rubble and decay of her old home. 

Her magic stuttered every so often, growing in magnitude from a blinding red fire to a whispering pink ember. It only steadied when her eyes, red from both her powers and her tears, caught sight of her target.

Ultron. 

Or, what was left of him. He seemed to be as desperate as she, now. Lying there, curled up and practically lifeless, unable to fight any longer.

In the end, his heart meant nothing to her. It was just scrap metal, useless wire, junk. How could it even begin to compare to her brother's life? There was no satisfaction to be gained from crushing his life force before his beady red eyes. Wanda didn't know why she thought there would be. 

And then she felt weightless. She'd forgotten about the core. But what did it matter, anyway? After all, her own core was just as gaping and vulnerable as the city's now that she'd abandoned it. She supposed that her magic wasn't as powerful as she thought it was, since it was obvious that one of Ultron's bots had still gotten to the stupid thing. 

She was flying now, hair swirling around her face and broken heart slashing away at her insides, but she didn't scream. She was content to die here, she was ready to see her family again. 

Then The Vision caught her in his arms, and he whisked her away to safety and continued life.

**But a witch's quarry, meets no relief.**

She never did forgive him for that. 


End file.
